Until we meet again
by Ingabritta
Summary: This is a sweet and delicate story about Meg and Erik. Or is it just that? Second, final chapter added. Happy ending!
1. Chapter 1

**Until we meet again**

Meg went down the known path again. It seemed just like a habit, since she had done so every Wednesday for the last two months. Now she knew every turn and every stone on the way and just waited for the tunnel to open into the shore where the boat was moored. When she reached the water she immediately noticed that something was different from before. There was light over the water on the other side and she could hear a sound – it might be the organ playing. The thought made her heart jump – how foolish. Was she going to turn back? Get her mother? No – what could he do to her? Not kill her anyway. He must have noticed..

She jumped into the boat and rowed slowly to the other shore. The door to the house was half open and the sound of organ music made its way out into the cave. Slowly she sneaked in and tried to move as quiet as possible. Inside the sound from the organ was almost unbearable. The cords were sometimes atonal and they felt likes cries from a torn heart.

Lots of candle lights spread a yellow light in the room. His hair was untidy and his jacket looked worn but he had his mask on – not the one she had taken when she looked for him the night he disappeared – but another one, just like it. When she looked at him she felt warm inside. A strange feeling, him being the one he was, but now she was not afraid, she just felt sorry for him. She wanted to comfort him, put her arms around him and let him rest his head against her bosom, like Christine perhaps had done.

She was still behind him when the flickering of the candle lights revealed her presence. He stopped playing. "Christine?" he asked without moving. She went closer. "No. It's me – Meg."  
He turned around. His voice was uncertain and vague. "What are you doing here?" - "We have looked after this for you. Didn't you notice? Where have you been?"  
He rose. "That's none of your business." There was anger in his voice. "What do you mean looked after? We who? Who asked you to do that?"  
She stepped back. "Please don't be angry. Mother and I, we tried to tidy up a little. It was such a mess when they all had been here, looking for you. But we didn't touch the organ, I promise.."  
He looked sad and his shoulders fell. "I'm sorry. That's kind of you. I'ts just that I feel so.. I don't know. When they left in the boat, when she came back and then left again, I felt like a hero, like a martyr. I had to let out my anger when I crashed all the mirrors and left. I even forgot my mask" – "which I found" – "and went further into the dungeons. I just went around there, thinking, trying my traps.." – "Traps?" – "There is much more in there than anybody knows of. I even have some food stored. But I just wanted to die, I lay down, then I was thirsty, then hungry.. then angry" now he had worked up his anger and his voice was strong "I couldn't let them win, I had to go back and have my revenge again…"

Meg looked at him, fascinated. He was burning inside, he was tempting.. He stopped talking and looked at her. "Why am I telling you this? Why are you here?" She reached out her hands agains him. "We are your friends, mother and I. I know you two have always respected each other. We wanted your house to look tidy, if you came back."  
"You made a good job. Thank you." He smiled for the first time. "I have to buy new mirrors." He sat down at the organ again. "Please sit." She found a chair nearby. He looked at her. She felt his gaze and her cheeks were red. "Did you come down here with the rest?"  
"Yes, I tried to come here before the crowd. Mother tried to stall them, we didn't want you to be found. Then they all followed the boat. Some days later we came here again. You know mother – she wants things to be in order."

"And why are you here now? Curiosity of course. You want to see what she saw – what she could have seen.." he fell silent, pain showing in his face. "There is so much I could have shown her, if she would have stayed." – "Can't you show me?" – "Why?" She tried to look convincing."I want to be your friend. I was afraid of course, when things happened. But mother thought good of you, and Christine – she was so confused. I think she wanted to love you but she didn't dare. Forget her for a while, please, it's best for you."  
"You can't know what is best for me." She had to calm him again. "Please let me into you world. Let me hear you play. Show me what things you have here." He looked at her. "What are your skills? Can you sing?" –"Not much. I dance. Do you want to see?" – "Not now." He looked at his coat. "I don't feel presentable at all, I must have a bath. You may come here tomorrow and I can watch you dance. But before you go – tell me about Christine. I must know."

"They married a month ago, then they went on a honeymoon. Mother says the vicomte doesn't want her to come back and sing, that it's not becoming for a countess to sing at the opera." – "But she must sing. Her voice must be heard." – "Perhaps she will defy her husband and do so, you don't know yet." She rose. "I will come back tomorrow. I'm so glad you are back!" She smiled at him. He smiled too, faintly at first, then warmer. "Thank you" he said. "it's good to know that someone has missed me."

When Meg came to the house the following day there were lights outside the house too. When she entered he greeted her sitting at his organ. He seemed more cheerful, his hair was shining black in the candle lights and he wore a dark blue smoking-jacket. There was an almost unnoticeable fragrance in the air. She was dressed in her ballet clothes and he saw she was ready for dancing. "Now dance for me" he said.

He played some ballet music which he assumed she knew and she danced. She had performed to this music, so it was easy. Then he tried another tune, which was new to her, and she had to improvise. It was a challenge but she managed and then she appreciated it, letting the music flow through her body, using the movements she knew. Afterwards she sat down in a chair, panting.

"You are very good" he said. "Do you aim to be a soloist?" – "Doesn't everybody? But it's much work. You can't just work. One has to have a little fun too." Then she smiled, looking at him. He couldn't help smiling too. She was lovely, sweet and devoted to her interest, still a little bit of a devil. Perhaps he should consider there existed other women than Christine.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked. "Yes please" she said surprised. "Then please come with me!" In the kitchen a small table was laid. Meg was impressed since they had bread, meat and turnips to eat, and to drink wine and water. "How do you manage?" she asked. "Shh, this is my secret. Perhaps I will tell you sometimes. The wine comes from my cellar. It's old and very good." – "I must take it easy with the wine" she said, sipping. "Oh, it is very good."

Two hours later she was satisfied and tired. "It's a good thing I have no performance tonight" she said. "But how do I get home? I don't know if I can walk straight." – "I will take you. It's my fault you had too much." He rose and helped her to stand up. As she walked, wearing her ordinary shoes, dancing shoes hanging around her neck, she realized she had to lean on him. He took her arm in a firm grip and so they went to the boat. It was wonderful having him so near.

She watched the water as he punted the boat across. This was just like he had done with Christine, she thought. But he didn't seem to think of Christine now. On the ascending path from the lake she felt stronger and walked by herself as he held her hand, slightly dragging her along. Then she stopped. "Please support me" she said. He put his arm around her shoulder. They walked slowly and she rested her head against him. "It is nice being with you" she said. "Can I come back? Do you like my company?" – "As a matter of fact I do. It feels good having someone around who likes you, who wants to be with you." He squeezed her shoulder. "But have you got the time to come?" – "I will take my time." When they came to the end of the path and she was to slip into the door she tried to give him a fast kiss on the cheek, but he backed off. "Thank you for tonight" he said and disappeared.

"Where have you been?" madame Giry asked her daugher when she came home. "Your'e drunk. Have you been out with some boy I don't approve of?" Meg tried to compose herself. "On the contrary, mother, I have been dining with a gentleman. At the opera. Or rather under the opera." Madame Giry's face brightened up. "Is he back? So he didn't die after all. That's wonderful. Should I go and see him?" – "I don't think so, mother, not yet. I am trying to win his friendship, let me do so first." Giry looked at her daugther. "As long as there is no danger.. if he doesn't hurt you, or abuse you.." Meg turned red "There is no danger, mother. He's so – gentlemanlike."

Meg returned to Erik's house whenever she had the time. The day after the first evening she was a little uncertain what he thought about her being drunk, but he said nothing about it. He showed her hidden places, where nobody else had been, rooms with fine art, lit up by torches, waterfalls, an open chest with precious stones. They jumped on the rocks and he held her hand firmly so that she wouldn't fall. She liked it when he touched her and she didn't hesitate to take his arm or lean on his shoulder, but she didn't know if it meant something to him.

One day he opened the door to a room she hadn't seen before. In the middle there was a model of the opera stage, with the set of Don Juan. It was like a doll house and the people on stage were the size of dolls. There seemed to be red light flickering within. High up under the roof stood two persons, they must be Christine and Erik performing "The point of no return".

Their heads were close together as they looked into the model and now she saw he was crying. He reached for a handkerchief and she took it. "Please let me help you" she whispered. "Let me take your mask off." "No!" But she did and he didn't stop her. She couldn't deny she was disgusted. But it was part of him and he couldn't help it. She dried both his eyes with the cloth.  
"Please let me comfort you" she said and held his head against her bosom. He wept softly against her blouse. "I thought I could look at it in your presence" he said "but I couldn't". "Shh" she said and took his face between her hands. She touched his cheek with her lips and then she kissed him. He hesitated, then he kissed her back. He rose, still kissing her and she put her arms around his neck. His hands rested on her hips. They let go of each other. "Meg – I didn't know.." – "Of course you did, silly. I'm glad I finally dared to take the step because you hadn't." – "You think so?" He drew her back into his arms and now he kissed her more fervently, until she lost her breath. She panted. "You don't happen to have some champagne, do you?"

He filled their glasses and they cheered. "Please don't make any plans yet" he said. "This is new to me. This feeling that there could be love for me without pain, without planning a meeting that could include deception, fighting. Just let me live in this for a while, with no demands, no obligations." She took his hands in hers. "I demand nothing of you. Only to be allowed to come here and be near you, be part of you doings."

She rose and went up to him. Again she kissed him, caressing his face, then she sat on his lap. He hugged her and held her tight. "I think I love you" she said. "It's so wonderful you feel the same for me."

Meg said nothing to her mother, eager to hide and protect this delicate love. She returned to Erik as often as she could, and they went exploring his realm. He showed her the room with the mirrors. "This is one of my traps" he said "I'm very proud of this construction. I can't say that I have used it though. It was meant as protection. Try it." Meg was curious and entered. Soon she was all lost. She followed a path but had no idea where she went. Red, green and blue light began to flicker. It was beautiful but she understood the desperation one would feel not finding the way out. She saw images of herself all around her and suddenly she wanted to get out. What if this was a trap for her? What if he had fooled her all the time? No.. "Please let me out!" she shouted. The mirrors moved showing the way out and she ran. She threw herself in his arms. "This was scary! Please comfort me." And so he had to kiss her.

About a week later they went to a part of the lake where the water was deeper. "What is this?" she asked. "It's another trap. You can fall down here from some stairs on another of my paths. Then you fall in this basin. There are bars to cover it, they can be operated from back here." – "Show me."

She stood at the edge of the basin and looked down, as the water flew, just like a in a lock. He pulled a handle and the bars began to move. Part of her skirt got caught in between and she was drawn into the water. The skirt was ripped off and she sank. Trying to fight the panic she held her eyes open seeing the light above. Luckily she could swim. She fought the moving water and managed to swim upwards, then she broke the surface of the water, heavily breathing. He reached out his hand and dragged her ashore. "I'm so sorry" he said. "Was it my fault?"

He looked at her. The water flew from her hair and her clothes. Her wet blouse clinged to her body and revealed the forms beneath. "I'm cold" she said. "Do you have a blanket?" He still looked at her. "My God" she said. "You have never seen a naked woman before. You are a virgin." He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, then he pressed her against him. He didn't seem to notice that he was wet too. "I have seen women's bodies before, in Persia" he said. "But that was just look, not touch. You are right, I have never felt a woman's body before." His hands were suddenly around her breasts. "You are a virgin too, I suppose?" – "Yes" she whispered. "But I don't plan to be it for much longer." She put her arms around his neck and began to move, and he had to move backwards to follow. Strangely enough she knew the way to his bedroom.

Meg lay face down in the bed, feeling the soft fabric of the sheets against her body. Erik caressed her back, tenderly, then she felt his breath against her neck as he kissed her shoulders. "You really have the finest sheets" she said "pure silk and all." – "Only the best is good enough for me" he said, softly laughing. "Are you satisfied?" She turned around in the bed to face him. "Not bad for a first time, I think. Imagine what we have ahead of us." He kissed her upper arm, then her breast. "You are so delicate, so soft" he whispered. It was a real strange sensation to feel his deformed face against her skin. A little unpleasant and still exciting. "Now I know I love you" she said.

They sat in the kitchen again, she dressed in one of his dressing-gowns, too big for her. He had disappeared for a moment, now he returned carrying a small box in his hand. He sat down and opened it. The room was filled with the sparkle of red and green lights. She looked at the ring, fascinated. "It's a ruby with small emeralds around. One of my treasures from Persia. I presume you can consider it an engagement ring." Her heart began to flutter. She held out her hand and he put the ring on her finger. "It's wonderful. Thank you." He took her hands. "Can I tell mother?" she said. "I haven't told her all about us yet." – "I suppose you can. It would be nice to meet her. Invite her here."

Erik had prepared a splendid meal when he invited Meg and madame Giry for dinner. Madame wiped her mouth with her napkin. "It was delicious, my dear Erik. I didn't know you had such cooking skills." – " You have to adapt. Down here I have to do most things by myself. I have learned through the years." – "And the wine is very good."  
Meg sat at Erik's side and she moved closer, putting her hand on his arm, as to show her mother that they belonged together. "What are your plans?" madame Giry asked. "Will you stay here and hide from the managers and the angry people? What will you do?" Erik took Meg's hand. "As I told Meg before I don't want to make any plans yet. I have to hide, if I don't get away." – "And will Meg stay here with you? What about if you have children?"  
Meg felt him stiffen. "I can't have any children. What if they inherit my disfiguration?" Meg suddenly felt a gulf of disappointment. She hadn't quite thought of that. Of course she wanted children..  
"Then you have to see to it you don't have any" madame said, looking at her daughter.

They walked along the lake, which reflected the lights around. "Have you heard anything more about Christine and the vicomte?" Erik asked. "They are back in Paris" madame Giry said. "Her husband doesn't want her to sing at the opera, but she still sings. She is invited to perform at charity meetings, and she sings at the soirées of noble families, accompanied by a pianist. Her voice is still excellent, I have heard." Meg held Erik's hand and she felt him squeeze hers hard.

When madame left Meg stayed, following him to the bedroom. "Do you mean that, about children?" she said. He took her in his arms. "That's how I feel now. But you never know what will happen."

A few days later, when Meg had an evening performance and was not coming down to the house, madame Giry came to see Erik alone. "Are you expecting my daugher to live here with you?" she said. "I can see the ring on her finger, which you call an engagement ring, but your relation is not legal in any way." – "Nor can it be, if we don't go away. Far, far away."

"I don't know if I should tell you this" madame said "but there will be a charity performance at the opera, where the proceeds go to poor children. Christine will perform together with many others. It will take place in the middle of the next month." Erik stopped. He was silent and nothing showed in his face, but inside it was turmoil. She was going to be in the opera house again.. was there a way he could see her?  
"If you learned she had been here and you hadn't known, I believe you wuld have been hurt" madame continued. "I don't know how strong you are. Could you listen to her again, or see her, without falling into despair again, or anger? Will my daughter's love help you to be strong and feel you have got over her?"  
"I don't know." His voice was faint. "I can't say. My feelings for her are not gone, although I know I don't stand a chance. I must see her and listen to her again, but it will be a torment."  
Madame looked at him. "I hope it will not alter your feelings for Meg. If you make my daughter unhappy, then I will not forgive you."

**Will Erik listen to Christine again? To be continued..**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Meg lay in bed with Erik's arm protectively wrapped around her. She was awake although he was still sleeping. How strange that she could feel so safe with a man like him. Hated, haunted, loathed…  
So mother had told him about Christine's concert. She felt not at all confident that her love could stop him from listening to Christine again, from seeing her or even from trying to contact her. Her hope must lie with Christine – if she had chosen Raoul once, why would she not stick to him?

She was right. He said he had to listen to her. They sat in the sofa, looking at small drops of water in different colours falling in a tiny fountain. He held her hands in his. "You must understand that I want to see her and listen to her. It could be the last time. She must have duties as a countess, and even if she sings eventually she will perhaps not return to the operahouse again."

Meg smiled faintly. She caressed his hands. "I understand. You taught her to sing, you want to listen to her. I'm just afraid that your love for her will arise again, that you will leave me and go away with her.." – "That is not possible. I don't think she wants to, and even if, her husband wouldn't let her. He would haunt her.." he stopped talking, as he realized he didn't deny his own wish for it to happen. He kissed her hands. "I promise, when this is over, I will devote all my time to you. We must plan some kind of future."

The evening of the concert finally came. There were going to be other performances besides Christine's, and he wondered if he was patient enough to listen to them before it was her turn. He had decided to use his box again. It had not been used since he had last used it, there was no admittance except from one of his own paths, which had been sealed, but which he managed to access anyhow, with some effort.

Meg was in a bad mood when he left. She didn't want to listen at all, and stayed below although her mother was present backstage. Erik sat hidden far back in the box and tried not to be too bored listening to recitations, a string quartet, a baritone singing Mozart, speaches and the quartet from Rigoletto. Almost at the end of the concert Christine was announced. She was to sing an aria from Aida, which he had heard her sing before.

He closed his eyes and let the sound of her voice fill him. It was wonderful to hear it again, it filled every inch of him. Now he felt more alive than he had been for a long time. Was this to be the only time he could hear her again, ever? Just to listen, and forget all that had happened then.. There was no way things could be as they once were.

He bent forward to look at her, standing in the spotlight, a slender figure in blue. The sight of her hit him, and he felt pain. He looked at her, taking it all in. He rose, knowing the people in other boxes couldn't see him, hoping that she would see him. So she did, almost at the end of the aria.

Just by habit she threw a glance at his box – and saw him. She managed to keep calm, not forgetting the words she was singing, but it took all her strength. At the same time so many feelings awoke in her – relief that he had survived and that he was not gone, the excitement to see him again, the knowledge that he heard her sing. When she was finished she made a bow and when she looked up again he was no longer there.

He stood hiding in a corner of the dressing room when she entered. "So you did come here" he said. She looked at him. "I saw you. I thought you would be here. So nobody else has occupied this room?" – "I don't think they dare. The fear of the Phantom still lingers, but I think they have stopped looking for me." The sight of her filled him with a strange warmth. It felt almost unnatural to see her again, so near. "You sing as beautiful as ever" he said. "It's a pity you don't perform." – "I miss it too. But I understand that Raoul doesn't want me to be here. Not only because it's not becoming for a countess to sing – he wants me no way near you." – "and you?" – "Please don't tempt me." There still was a distance between them.

"You seem to look rather good" she said. "How did you come back? What are you doing now?" He decided to tell the truth. "I returned of my own free will. But then I got help. Madame Giry and Meg helped me. They cleaned up, they have kept me company – and more." – "I saw madame Giry today, but not Meg. Strange, shouldn't she had come to see me, I thought we were friends." – "Yes, Meg. She was probably in my house. She stays mostly with me – we are lovers."

Christine's jaw fell. "That I could never have imagined." – "It just came. She is sweet and devoted. I feel loved and appreciated." – "You deserve it. I miss your music –that's all. To sing with you, to feel your music in my body, that is what we had together. When I kissed you, that was just out of pity."

He went closer to her. "I don't believe you" he said. "When we sang the duet in Don Juan, when I held you close to me, then you wanted me, I could feel it." – "What's the use? We can't have each other now." –"Perhaps for once?" He dared to take the few steps up to her and took her in his arms. She laid her head against his shoulder but didn't embrace him. His hands touched her back. "We were innocent then, both of us" he whispered into her hair. "Now we know what love can give, if we let it." – "No" she said faintly. "I didn't think like that" – "But I did".

The took her face between his hands and kissed her. The kiss in the dungeons came back to her, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him too. He caressed her shoulders, his kisses were intense. They stopped to breathe. She withdraw from the embrace. "This is enough" she said. "There cannot be anything more. I can't deny I love you, in a way, but I love Raoul too. And I have chosen. Be faithful to the woman who loves you and remember me fondly."

There was depair in his eyes. "Never again?"- "No, not like that. You might listen to me sing sometimes. Perhaps I will return to the opera, to some opera, after a few years, when I have given Raoul the heir he wants." His shoulders fell. "Yes, you want children. And I couldn't give you any." – "What do you mean? Meg wants children, doesn't she?" – "Yes. But I wouldn't dare. What if it will inherit my deformity?" – "You can't know that, you have to take a chance. Imagine to pass on all your music to a child." Her eyes were shining. He lifted his arms again. "Yes, with you!" She backed off. "No, I can't. Please, I have to go now. Some years ahead I would like to sing at the Metropolitan opera in New York." – "Then I will come to listen. The only way Meg and I could marry is if we leave France – why not go to America, if it is possible. I am not poor, we can afford it."

"I'm sure you will find a way. They are expecting me. Give my love to Meg. I suppose she didn't want you to meet me and that she has been nervous. Tell her I wish her all the happiness. And you too." She kissed her fingers and threw him a kiss, then she left the room. He stood motionless for a while, then he sat down on a chair. He could not go back yet. He had to be alone.

Madame Giry sat in one of the old sofas behind the stage. She held the three pages of a letter in her hand and looked at a photography. She smiled, almost laughing. M Firmin passed by. "Hello madame! Nice to see you in such a good mood. Have you had good news? It's that a photography?" Madame showed it to him and he looked at it. It showed a baby lying on a rug. "This is my grandson" she said in a proud voice. "He's called Charles." She looked at the picture again. "And he is perfectly normal." M Firmin frowned. "Why shouldn't he be?"

Madame Giry shrugged her shoulders. "Well, you never know. Sometimes children could have some small defects." He looked at the letter. "So Meg is married now? And they live in New York, is that right? What's her married name?" – "They took Meg's name, with a little alteration, so they are Meg and Erik Giray now – and Charles. He's seven months old."

One of the other directors, vicomte Raoul de Chagny, approached them. "Is that a picture of your grandson? May I see?" Madame showed him. "He looks healthy. I am so glad for their sake. I will take this opportunity to tell you a secret – at last it seems like we will be blessed too. Christine is expecting – we are expecting – a child in about six month. Then she will devote all her time to the child and will not miss her singing any more. " – "She can sing lullabies. And perhaps the child will be a musical one and will want to sing when it grows up."

"Perhaps, if it is a girl. If it is a boy I want him to be like me. I will tell Christine I saw the picture of your grandson and that he looks fine. I know she will be glad too." – "I know she will. Perhaps, sometimes, I will go to New York to visit them." – "I think you should. And please, give them our best wishes."

Madame Giry looked at the photograph again. Yes, she wanted to go soon. It would be very interesting to see the little boy, the son of the Phantom.


End file.
